


A Shimmering Balance Act

by jbird181



Series: We Might Be Hollow But We're Brave [4]
Category: Saturday Night Live, Saturday Night Live RPF, Weekend Update (SNL)
Genre: Birthdays, Cuddling, Domestic Bliss, Don't worry, Established Relationship, Fluff and Angst, Getting better isn't a linear process, I play fast and loose with the timeline, M/M, Mention of past suicidal thoughts, Mostly Fluff, Prescription drugs taken as prescribed, The Office
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-26
Updated: 2020-03-26
Packaged: 2021-02-28 21:14:44
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,340
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23323777
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jbird181/pseuds/jbird181
Summary: Stefon isn’t a stranger to prescription drugs, but they don’t usually come in a neat little bottle that has his name on it and says take once daily by mouth.Or, Seth and Stefon cuddle on the couch, and Stefon acquires a taste for domestic bliss.
Relationships: Seth Meyers/Stefon
Series: We Might Be Hollow But We're Brave [4]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/986181
Comments: 11
Kudos: 86





	A Shimmering Balance Act

**Author's Note:**

> I always meant for this installment to be the happy interlude, and it is, but I couldn't help making it a _little_ angsty. After this, I'm planning on two more installments to wrap up the series. If you like Becca, she'll be in the next one. :) It's her graduation. 
> 
> The title is from one of my favorite songs, [Don't Take the Money by Bleachers](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=PdRjwHQet_A).

Stefon’s new alarm goes off at 9:30, repeating every day. _Time for drugs_ , it says with the _:)_ he added as an afterthought. The pill he shakes out is surprisingly small. 

“I’ll get you some water,” says Seth. 

“I’m good,” says Stefon, loud enough for Seth to hear him in the kitchen: “I’ve never had trouble swallowing.” The winky face is implied. Seth laughs but hands him a glass of water anyway, and so Stefon drinks it anyway. The pill’s so small he doesn’t even feel it. “Thanks.” 

“No problem.” 

Stefon sets the pill bottle down, keeping the half-full water glass to sip on. Seth throws an arm around his shoulder, and Stefon tucks himself into his shoulder. He isn’t sure what the deodorant Seth is wearing is called, something boring and manly like glacier or iceberg or something, but he mentioned that he liked the scent, and Seth kept buying it. It’s a strange feeling to have that sort of effect on someone, but it’s a good feeling, fizzy in his chest. “That’s a good name for a club.” 

“What?”

“Ice Flow, it would have everything! Air conditioning that’s always set two degrees too low, Pavlovian conditioning, Uber drivers that want to give your their mixtape, mistakes, and Dolly Pardon.” 

“You’re inviting Dolly Parton?” 

“No, Dolly Pardon, she’s a stripper-judge who calls everyone turkeys, but she _will_ get you off.” 

Seth laughs despite himself. “Stefon, are you even watching?” 

“Yes yes yes!” 

Seth turns to focus the full force of his faux-serious Weekend Update gaze on him. “Why are Michael and Dwight in this condo?” 

“Because… they condo-ne skipping work?”

When Seth groans his name in that tone—Ste _fon_ —his eyes dancing, it does something to him. 

It’s even better hearing Seth moan his name into his mouth. He can’t imagine a timeline where he ever gets tired of kissing Seth, and Stefon can imagine a lot of things. 

They break away, smiling, and Stefon loves how Seth’s eyes crinkle up when he’s happy like that. He presses a kiss to Seth’s cheekbone in silent approval. Michael is slouched on the floor on screen. “Fuck, let me rewind.” Stefon giggles. It feels so deliciously deviant when Seth curses. He curls back into Seth’s side, and he wraps his arm around him. There’s an air of unreality to the situation, like a party three drinks in, the lights neon-bright and the air liquid. Like Stefon on a couch with his boyfriend under a blanket watching Michael Scott’s shenanigans on a Sunday night. 

The credits roll, and in the semi-dark Stefon says, “I don’t feel anything” into Seth’s shoulder. 

“What?” 

Stefon moves his head, gripping the blanket. “I don’t feel anything from the meds. She said it needs to build up in my system before I see results, but I guess I was expecting something.” 

“It’s not supposed to be like a high,” Seth says gently, tilting Stefon’s face up. 

“I know.” Stefon isn’t a stranger to prescription drugs, but they don’t usually come in a neat little bottle that has his name on it and says _take once daily by mouth_. He’s tempted to say so out loud, but he doesn’t think it’s the kind of joke Seth would find funny, and the last thing he wants is for him to worry. Most normal people don’t understand how even on his bad days now, he’s doing better than he has in a long time, and Seth is as normal as it comes. It’s very sexy of him. He tells Seth that part. 

Seth laughs and squeezes his hand. “Thank you.” Miraculously, he lets the subject drop. “So what do you want to do for your birthday, Stefon?” Seth asks, and Stefon bolts upright. _He’s going to be twenty-six._ He never expected to make it to eighteen, but somehow he did and still, every year, it feels like waking up on a stranger’s couch with his head pounding and heart racing and _what happened?_ when March 12th rolls around. 

“Stefon? Are you okay?” 

“Yeah.” _Twenty-six._

“I actually have the night off, so I’m all yours.” Seth’s cheeky smile is still the most charming thing Stefon’s ever seen. Somehow, he keeps getting lucky. 

He swings his legs over Seth’s lap, getting tangled in the blanket. “Do you want to get dinner? I’ve been meaning to try this sushi place called Sharkbait. It has everything: award-winning chef Bobby Filet-O-Fish, a double-decker bus, human sweater vests-”

“Stefon, what are human sweater vests?”

“You know, the stereotypical geeky computer guys in all the sitcoms.” 

“Oh, of course, I didn’t know they existed in real life.” 

“They don’t,” Stefon winks. It’s unimaginable that he’ll ever get tired of hearing Seth laugh either. 

The next episode starts, and they settle in, Stefon’s head on Seth’s shoulder. The angle isn’t perfect for watching the show, but that isn’t Stefon’s main priority. 

Stefon doesn’t really have a problem with birthdays. They’re great, people give you things and make you feel special. And it’s not like Stefon ever had plans to off himself, but he always assumed he wouldn’t make it to eighteen. For all of what people called his “creativity,” Stefon couldn’t imagine any future for himself, let alone one where he was happy. But then, one morning he woke up, and he was a year older. Stefon just kept waking up, and somehow he ended up at Columbia on this borrowed time, and then on Weekend Update, and then somehow here. It’s all pretty hazy. 

The scariest part, the most disorientating, is that sometimes in moments like this, or when he and Seth go grocery shopping together, or when he wakes up next to Seth in the morning, or Stefon is cooking dinner, and he feeds Seth a taste on a spoon and he blows on it because it’s hot and smiles at him saying it’s good, Stefon has to catch himself because he can taste the future, and it’s so easy, and it feels so right it hurts. 

It hurts to want things, but Stefon can’t help himself. It’s a tight, painful knot in his chest to think that maybe he can have them. 

He kinda really fucking wants a joint. 

“Sorry, I missed that. Can you rewind it?” 

“I knew you weren’t paying attention,” Seth teases, and everything Stefon wants is flowing over him like a waterfall, and he’s trying so hard to hold onto it all. 

“Okay,” Seth yawns when the second episode finishes. “We have to turn it off or we’ll never go to bed.” 

Stefon sighs, stretching dramatically. “I wish we could do this every night.” 

“Me too, Stefon.” Seth is usually tired after taping Late Night with Seth Meyers, and they both have work early in the morning. Seth’s been stopping by Stefon’s coffee shop every morning, and Stefon’s been drawing a heart, or, on one memorable occasion, a dick on the side of Seth’s cup. It’s the kind of sickeningly sweet couple-y behavior that Stefon would have made fun a year ago, but now it just makes him unable to stop grinning all day. 

Stefon follows Seth to the bathroom. “Would you want to come on Late Night sometime? You could do a segment.” 

“About what? I’m behind on New York’s hottest clubs.” He grabs his toothbrush from its spot next to Seth’s. 

Seth pauses, considering. He hesitates before suggesting, “You could talk about recovery, if you feel comfortable sharing.” 

Stefon meticulously squirts toothpaste onto his toothbrush, wets it. “Can I think about it?” 

“Absolutely. It’s an open invitation.” Their eyes meet in the mirror, and Stefon smiles as he starts brushing. He’s sure there’d be good things about doing a segment like that, but the audience already knows a lot about their personal lives, and Stefon isn’t sure if he’ll ever be able to share this without feeling ashamed. One day, maybe everything will come into focus, and his life will all make sense, but for now, he pulls the covers over him and Seth, and this is enough. 

**Author's Note:**

> Leave me a comment? It'd make my day. :) Also if anyone has any good movie recommendations, that's all I've been doing recently, besides somehow being inspired to write.


End file.
